About That Ring
by Aphrael-08
Summary: Ron, after a night out with the guys, gets his engagement ring stuck in a ..delicate...spot. Hermione is the only one who knows the charm to get it off. She doesn't know anything about it, though. Post DH. Rated not so safely, mostly alcohol, not abused.
1. The Problem

Disclaimer: None of the characters belong to me. If you look hard enough, even the general thought doesn't belong to me. But the way it happens is all mine, and probably the most redeeming point for this story.

A/N: These will eventually get longer...I think. It's just sort of a trial I'm sticking out there to see if it works. And it sets up the story. Something interesting will happen. I promise. Review?

The Problem

Ronald Weasley sat in his apartment. It was a tiny, but cosy setting, though the effect (courtesy of Hermione's influence) was slightly ruined by the mess everywhere. Unclean clothes were present on the barely visible bedroom floor, and this morning's toast crumbs were still covering the table, to be hastily wiped away when Hermione said she was coming to visit.

Ron, at present, was not worried about that. Hermione, he knew, was off with her parents today, who had insisted upon weekly visits ever since being returned from Australia, memories properly corrected. Ron thought they still seemed a little betrayed. They generally did not speak of their time in Australia, and since nobody else wanted to explain the wizard's war in detail to them, they got their wish. Now that some years had passed, nobody really wanted to talk about that war.

Hermione's absence gave Ron the opportunity to pull out the engagement ring he had bought her, and turn it over obsessively in his hands. There were days that Ron thought he'd rather break into Gringotts again, or infiltrate the Ministry (not that it would be a challenge now; they'd open their doors eagerly) rather than propose to Hermione.

He wanted to, of course. It wasn't that he was scared of living with her. They'd done that before, both in a little tent and at Hogwarts. He had no problems with that. He just couldn't actually get the words out of his mouth, no matter how he encouraged them. They always came out as something else. A lot like their fourth and fifth years, actually, he thought. He had wanted to ask her out then, but was by far too tongue tied to ask her properly.

Ron groaned loudly. An internal debate had been going on for a rather long time now.

Ron sighed, and instead of putting the ring properly away under all its enchantments, he slipped it into his pocket. He was going to meet Harry, George and Charlie, to celebrate Charlie's brief stay in Briton. He had gotten leave from his boss in Romania to come and see his neice, Victoire, who had just celebrated her second birthday. All the girls were fussing with her, and she herself had raised her imperious, two year old voice and firmly told Bill that "Daddy not leave. No." She had pleadingly looked at him until he had given in, a record of about three milliseconds.

Ron pulled on a sweater and went out into the cold night air, regrettably leaving the ring tucked into his pocket, something he would regret a little later on in the night.


	2. The Party

Disclaimer: I don't own anything. I'm not making money from anything. (This disclaimer thing is going to be rather repetitive, isn't it?)

A/N: All right, here it is. More than just a start to a story. Hopefully humorous. Reviews are welcome.

"Ron!" Charlie shouted. He staggered a little as he made his way over to Ron. Apparently they had started the celebrating a little without him.

"My dearest brother," Charlie's eyes rolled a little as he slapped Ron on the back and nearly send him sprawling. Charlie had grown rather strong during his time with the dragons.

"Well, he is since George won a lot of Galleons off him at Wizards Snap." Harry was by far the most sober person there.

George shrugged modestly. He was sitting smugly near a small pile of gold. Most of the gold happened to be Charlie's, and Charlie was determined to not speak to George for the rest of the night.

Ron appraised them all. Charlie and George went Firewhisky for Firewhisky at some point, but Harry had barely had two. George was also a lot less visibly drunk then Charlie. Ron decided he had to get all the rest of them drinking more. Especially Harry, who was fairly amusing when past his non existent tolerance for alcohol.

They were all in the flat above WWW. The flat had previously been carefully cleared of anything remotely breakable. It had also been cleared of anything the four boys might break themselves on. Lots of room had been made for oddities like chicken imitations, a big favourite game of a drunk George.

Ron smirked as he initiated a drinking contest with Harry he knew he could win.

"Hey Harry, what say we...."

Hours later, the four of them were drunk. Hangovers were inevitable.

Since there were four drunk guys in a room, the talk inevitably turned to hot girls. Once they'd ranked the girls at Hogwarts (being undecided among a first place winner, and all whole heartedly agreeing that Slytherin girls, and specifically Pansy Parkinson, where the least attractive beings on Earth) they turned to talk of who they themselves liked.

This was particularly perilous for Harry, who was beginning to regret not leaving. He could not help thinking about Ginny, and while Ron had made his peace with it, Charlie didn't even know yet, and George hadn't really said anything either. Harry was not sure, in fact, seeing as George hadn't been in the school, whether or not he knew they were dating in the first place, let alone Harry had quietly asked out Ginny about 6 months after the battle, once he'd gotten his head on straight.

Ron seemed to notice this quietness, and guessed what Harry was thinking about. He was deciding whether or not to turn the tables on Harry when George piped up. "So, Charlie, eh, what about all those Chaser girls on our team? The old one?"

He turned sagely to Harry. "Before your year of course – I'd never talk about my sister the Chaser that way."

Harry turned a funny colour at this, and made absolutely no motion.

Charlie looked over at him sympathetically. "Bit of Firewhisky down the throat?"

He patted Harry on the back, and continued happily detailing some of his practices in which second year Angelina and Alicia, and a sixth year girl Harry did not know had flown the hardest agility course that Charlie could come up with, for the specific purpose of being able to stare at the sixth year in compromising positions.

Needless to say, Angelina and Alicia, who had flown it along with them, were not impressed. He'd made Oliver Wood do it too, but apparently Wood idolized it, seeing as he'd made both girls and Katie, who had out flown the strange girl in her second year, run it repeatedly.

George smirked at this, and was about to comment on why Wood had done that, and why it might have had little to do with Quidditch, when Ron spoke up, looking at Harry who was still red-faced and silent.

"You know, I don't think Harry's said anything...."

"Poor bloke was attacked by Firewhisky, Ron. Leave him some peace."

Ron smirked. "I'll bet Harry could contribute to the discussion of Chasers in our year."

Harry's eyes widened dramatically. He wasn't a good poker face when he was drunk. "N-no.."

Charlie looked at him. George scowled at him. "Angelina or Alicia?" He demanded promptly.

Harry calmed a little and shook his head.

"Katie?"

Harry shook his head again.

"Not Dean, mate. Dean?"

Harry shook his head harder as they roared. He really wished they got off the subject before they came to...

Ron knew exactly who it was, but watched his brothers think. "Hey Ron, are there more girls?"

Ron nodded.

George shrugged absently. "Well, there was Ginny, but.."

Harry nearly ducked. He shrank back a good deal as it was.

Charlie, as drunk as he was, didn't miss it. You had to have good peripherals when dealing with dragons. "Ginny?" He breathed.

Harry glanced quickly at Ron for help, knowing that at least his friend had warned him off and all that months earlier.

George's eyes narrowed. "You're that bloke she was crying about, weren't you? I thought it was Dean, he had to leave and go into hiding, you know."

Charlie reached over and grabbed Harry's collar. "You what?"

Ron suddenly realized what he'd done. "I've hit him for that."

It was true. About four months after the war, Ron had a serious talk with Harry that involved three punches, none of which Harry threw. Apparently the battle had improved Ron's aim, because all of them hit square.

Charlie's fist tightened on Harry's collar. "Well...care to share, Potter?"

"Share what?" Harry squeaked in a tiny voice.

"Details. How did you upset her, what all happened...."

"Yeah, we want to know..."

"Did you ditch her for somebody..?"

Harry, who could barely talk, managed "I didn't want the Dark Lord to hurt her."

Charlie and George glanced at each other, then nodded. "Well, then, we won't kill you. We'll just pound you a little and off you go."

Ron was now fairly desperate to get Harry out of there. As they prepared themselves for pounding, Ron shouted "I did that earlier."

No luck.

"Harry'd be better than some bloke like Michael Corner, he was a right loser."

No luck again, though he thought they softened a little in pinning Harry to the wall.

Ron swallowed. The things you do for friendship, he thought.

"I'm getting engaged!"

Dead halt. Incredulous looks back at him.

"Let's see the ring then." George said, perhaps suspecting that Ron did not want them to pound Harry, and this was a desperate attempt to stop them.

Harry relaxed, as he knew Ron was actually trying to propose to Hermione. Sometime.

Ron pulled it out, waving it. Charlie released Harry onto his own unsteady feet. "Well. Our little brother is growing up..."

George sent a nasty look at Harry. "And our little sister better not have."

A half hour later, they were all clustered around Ron, singing sappy carols as he once again struggled with how. Harry, out of gratitude, was not giving him the teasing Ron would have expected out of this, but was keeping his head below the surface.

George grinned, his face evil. "Let's see you put this ring on, now."

Charlie nodded. "You have to, it's a family tradition."

Ron shrugged casually, to drunk to worry much, and put the ring on his finger.

"No, no, Ronnikins. This tradition didn't come from Dad. It came from Uncle Bilius. You know, the life of the party."

Charlie, much more docile when drunk out of his mind unless his sister was mentioned (Harry furtively crossed his fingers Ginny would not come up again), was once again playing George's sidekick. "Oh yeah, Ron. It's tradition. She won't say yes unless you do it."

Ron, who before had been waving them off, intent on avoiding cold metal in a personal spot, suddenly stopped. Paler than normal, he stuttered, "S-she'll say n-n-no?"

Harry was about to speak up when George and Charlie at once began talking. "It's been a tradition for ages. Dad didn't flout it, and you know how Mum's always going on about how well he proposed. You'd be far better off doing it, mate."

Harry finally got a word in. "That's ridiculous. There's no way she'll say no."

But George drowned him out. "Oh you think so, eh? Good. You won't be touching Ginny then. It's true. Bilius came up with it, not for his own use, mind you, never married, but everybody else has to. It's a powerful spell." Charlie nodded wisely.

Ron looked unsure. He suspected the wool was being pulled over his head. Harry, who knew the wool was being pulled over Ron's head, was otherwise occupied.

"You back up my brother, and I'll make sure word reaches Charlie that you've been messing Ginny about." George muttered to Harry just as Harry opened his mouth. Harry closed it quickly.

"It's just a laugh, no harm meant, and trust me when I say, Charlie's favourite has always been Ginny. He'll make what anyone else could do to you laughable. How do you think she learned to play Seeker so well? I mean, Chaser, that's something you learn on the team. Seeker? They don't do anything but give you practise. But to outSeek Cho Chang, a year her senior? Little Ginny, whom you are not to touch, had private lessons from good ol' Charlie there, and she's our baby sister."

George said all this quietly and rapidly, knowing that at least he was prolonging Harry's speechlessness while Charlie continued with fabricated stories of Weasley men who flouted tradition and had terrible marriages. All the Weasley brothers had a good talent for going after their little brothers, who had in time developed ways of coping, and unsuspected ingenuity when put into difficult situations.

Ron, in the meanwhile, caved to Charlie, his nerves giving in. "All right, all right. But not in front of you blokes."

"Gotta have witnesses, my boy. Simply have to." Charlie said with aplomb. "Naturally it won't be valid if you don't."

George cringed a little. "Actually, it's perfectly all right if you get it on while facing the OTHER way, thanks. Still fully binding, we only have to see it on, and only once mind you."

Even drunk George wasn't happy with seeing Ron wearing a ring anywhere but his fingers and toes. He muttered to Charlie, "Mate, you never had to share a room with this lout. Trust me, I never want to see that again in my life."

Charlie muttered back, "This was all your idea; keep that part of him out of any pranks next time if you don't want to sit back and laugh."

Harry had an odd sense of foreboding, but looked over at Charlie, remembering what George had said about Ginny being Charlie's favourite. Charlie worked with dragons. Big dangerous dragons. Easily harder to pummel than Harry. Harry swallowed nervously, and said nothing more. He'd told Ron, hadn't he? Ron didn't have to do this.

After a moment of fiddling, Ron turned around. "Happy, you lot? I've done it. She'll say yes now, won't she?"

Charlie and George simultaneously burst out laughing. Harry did not join in, even with how remarkably stupid that display looked.

"That was priceless!" George said once he'd caught his breath, still smiling. "Ickle Ronnikins, believing in tradition."

Charlie smirked. "Really good, mate. Haven't laughed to hard in ages."

Ron's face went beet red. He swore and turned around and tried to pull the ring off. But there was a slight problem.

"Oh no..."


	3. The Predicament

Disclaimer: I do not own any of it. Hopefully I get points for originality, and not money from anything. (I like money so much better when it's actually legal money.)

A/N: At some point the updates are going to slow down hideously, I hope everyone reading isn't going to hate me for that. Probably once my friend gets back from Alberta. She's there for two weeks though. This one (like all the rest) is for her, because it made her laugh and not stop for 10 min straight.

"It won't come off." Ron's voice was high and panicky.

"Whaddya mean?" Charlie's voice was rather sharp.

"I mean it's stuck, it won't come off, nothing's happening!"

George looked at him. "Well, there's a charm..."

Harry looked at George. "But the last thing I tried it on exploded, so don't look at me for help."

Ron shuddered. He turned away from them protectively, and continued attempting to get the ring off.

George and Charlie winced a little in sympathy. "It does seem to have that effect."

Charlie giggled. Actually giggled. It was probably the scariest moment yet.

Harry jumped about a foot. He still hadn't forgotten Charlie's death grip.

Charlie slung an arm about Harry, and one about George. "Look, it's all good. Everything's going to turn out Ooo-kay..."

George grimaced. "He's a rather happy drunk, you know. Doesn't quite grasp the seriousness of the situation."

Harry looked at him. "What seriousness? I'm sure somebody can do the charm properly."

George looked at Harry as though he was nuts. "Yeah, but is my brother barking enough to let them try? It has a tendency to explode what it was aimed at when it goes wrong, you know."

Ron gave them all a rather nasty look at the mention of the word explode. Apparently they weren't to mention it in his presence.

"So, um, if he won't let anyone help him with that charm..." Harry queried, not sure he really wanted to know.

"Then we'll have to help him get it off manually." George cringed. "I don't like that thought."

"I don't either. Let's not."

"Mum'll kill me if I don't."

Ron interrupted. "Which you won't be. You're not exploding anything, or..helping in any other manner."

Harry thought of other options. He suddenly realized one. "We know of somebody who never gets any spell wrong!"

"Well, yeah, but he's dead, mate. Can't help me much now." Ron's face highly resembled a tomato. It seemed to do that a lot. "If I'd explain it to him anyway."

Harry looked puzzled. George looked even more puzzled. Charlie looked extremely happy and benign, sitting as though nothing could possibly go wrong.

"Who're you talking about?"

"Who're YOU talking about?"

"Somebody alive, idiot."

"I was talking about Dumbledore."

Harry snickered slightly. "Well, yeah, but you wouldn't go up to the most acclaimed wizard on the planet, whom you've barely met, and say, 'Hey, I have a problem with my...' "

Ron nodded. "You're exactly right. Couldn't do that. Who's this alive somebody?"

"Hermione. Have you ever known her to get a spell wrong?"

Ron thought. "Well, once, but even if I could tell her--"

Harry cut him off. "She's never blown anything up with a spell she didn't get right. You'll be perfectly safe if you go to her. Besides, Ginny once got one of those cheap cereal box rings stuck on my finger, and Hermione got it off right away. She knows the spell, mate."

George looked up. "What was my sister doing with your finger?!"

Harry shook his head emphatically. "Not that! Normal people term for finger." He held one up. "One of the ones on my hand." Privately Harry thought he really shouldn't tell them it was his ring finger she'd slipped it on while kissing him.

George relaxed. "I'm going to take Charlie home now. I can't stand hearing anything else like that."

Ron protested. "How can you go anywhere? Your stupid joke got me into this mess!"

George shrugged. "And you and Harry will get you out of it. So what?"

Grabbing Charlie and hauling him to his feet, George disapparated, taking Charlie along and leaving Ron and Harry staring at each other, chagrined.

"Well..." Ron looked a lot worried. He gave the ring another tug, hopefully. It didn't budge.

Harry looked at him awkwardly. "You'd best ask Hermione, mate. There are things a best friend just isn't supposed to do."

Ron nodded. "I'll go get properly dressed, and we'll talk about strategies of asking her, all right?"

Harry looked relieved. "Yeah, sure. I'll just be over here."

The two friends separated rather quickly. Once Ron was dressed, they sat down and began to discuss possibilities.

"Well, you could just flat out ask her. I mean, it might give her a bit of a laugh. I'll bet she'd do it anyway. She likes you." Harry's voice was optimistic. He hoped Ron would take this option. It would be the simple, obvious one. But Ron, in true Ron mentality, immediately denied it.

"There's no way. Even if I could explain, she'd kill me. I'd be better to go with something that makes this all look smooth and natural, like I'd planned it, see?" Ron's face was determined, and Harry predicted utter trouble coming up.

"How are you going to do that? Well, I put this ring here just for the purposes of proposing to you...She'd laugh in your face, mate."

Ron's face lit up at his mockery. "Of course! Thanks, Harry, that's brilliant. See you tomorrow!"

Harry's face was confused and chagrined as he wondered what Ron could have possibly taken out of his statement.


	4. The Plan

Disclaimer: I own nothing. I profit zip. Zilch. Nada. Nothing.

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Harry felt nervous about what had gotten into Ron's head. He had a sneaking suspicion Ron had taken his words for face value, and was going to do something regrettable. He thought hard about the notion, then mentally shrugged. Hermione was a big girl, and could certainly handle whatever Ron decided to do.

Ron, in the meantime, was plotting. It was clear what he had to do, to save face with Hermione.

He had to seduce her.

Ron listened to the ghostly voices he could hear of his friends. Harry sounded worried. "You're going to what?! I thought you guys decided to wait until after to...you know."

George and Fred laughed at him. "You think you could....to anybody?" The laughter rose, and so did Ron's temper.

Ginny's desicive voice echoed for a moment. "You might have snogged her, but she...with you...? That's a right laugh, that is."

Ron glowered at nothing for an instant, and then began working on plans.

Miles away, Harry felt a familiar feeling. His head was hurting. But his scar felt fine. He blinked in surprise. He had no idea of the larger headache that was going to permenantly embed itself in his skull.

Hermione sat comfortably on her work chair, having no idea of anything that was happening.

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A/N: I know that was really short, but I have no idea how to procede. I haven't ever tried to seduce someone, and I'm not planning on it anytime soon, so I'm out of ideas. Help? I'll try to come up with some, but I can't just approach anyone I know and say, "Hey, how do you...." Trust me. Nobody wants to know the answers I've gotten.


	5. The Preposterous Idea

Disclaimer: I own nothing belonging to JK Rowling.

Personal Disclaimer: I have done none of this, and have no intention on doing any of it. I also don't recommend it, people. These are not ideas for success.

A/N: Thank you to ginnylovesharry07 and Aiyana Stone for the help they provided.

Ron woke up happily, pleased at the images in his mind. An idea worked its way into his brain. It was odd enough it just might work.

He changed quickly, wincing when the ring caught on his pant leg. "Bloody hell. This needs to work." He cursed in pain. "Soon."

Ron, after some thought, realized Harry was the only one who could help him. He thanked his lucky stars they were both on vacation, and rushed over to Harry's flat.

Harry looked up in surprise, and then anxiety once he saw who it was.

"Hello Ron. Feeling better now, mate?"

Ron nodded. "I've realized what I've got to do, Harry. I've got to get Hermione to make a move, then propose that way."

Harry raised his eyebrows. "I thought you and she decided..."

Ron turned red. "Actually, she was all for us...you know....I decided I wanted to wait, because I was planning to marry her anyway, and soon."

Harry snorted. Ron had had that ring for months now.

Ron glared at Harry. "Anyway, do you think a picture might do it?"

Harry looked at Ron as though Ron had lost his mind. Harry hoped fervently Ron did not mean what he thought Ron meant.

"What do you mean, Ron? She sees a picture of you doing something heroic?" Harry remained oddly hopeful that was the end of it.

"No, Harry, she wouldn't respond to that. A, you know, starker picture."

It was exactly what he had thought Ron meant.

Harry looked at him. "Even if it was worth a try," though Harry privately thought that it was a pretty poor attempt, "How would you get her to look at it?"

Ron shrugged. "I could slip it in her book."

Harry wondered why Ron was telling him about it. Then Harry realized pictures did not take themselves.

"I'm not taking it, mate. I've said it before – there are things best friends shouldn't do."

Ron scowled. "I can't tell my brothers. They'd never let me hear the end of it."

Harry looked incredulous. "Ron, if you try and make me take this thing, I'll tell Hermione on you."

That stopped that.

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Ron and Harry were still at Harry's flat a little while later, eating breakfast. Ron was feeling a little resentful, but Harry was firm. He would not be taking pictures of that kind.

The fire turned green, without a warning of any kind. Ron looked at Harry confused. "Who do you normally have over for break--"

Ginny popped out of it. She looked at Ron, and cracked an evil grin, similiar to the twins.

"Having troubles, Ronnikins?"

Ron scowled. "None of your business, sister dear."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "I guess I should be honored you'll scar me, but not your own family?"

Ron rolled his eyes. "She's my baby sister."

Ginny glared. He had crossed the line she was working so hard to dissolve. "I'm not a baby, Ronny! At least I know where to put rings!"

Harry cringed. This was not going well.

Ron paled. He turned to Harry, who was after all dating her. "You told -"

"No, idiot, you think the twins would not tell everybody they see?" Ginny looked a little more triumphant. "So how you planning on getting out of it?"

Ron shrugged. "There's a spell. You know, activates the ability of the ring to grow and shrink to fit the size of the finger again. Except it's rarely used, so I don't know it."

Ginny thought about it. "Oh yeah, Hermione did Harry's the one time we got it stuck."

Ron choked. "WHAT!"

Ginny rolled her eyes. "On his finger, you prat. I put a ring on his finger – the normal kind at that – and it got stuck. So Harry held out his hand," she gestured in his face, "and she did the spell."

Ron nodded a little.

"So that's solved then. Just go ask Hermione. I mean, she's your girlfriend, and I'm sure would be quite willing to get it off."

Ron shook his head. "She'd laugh. And I haven't proposed yet, so she doesn't know about the ring."

Ginny looked at him. "Have you got a better plan then? Cause as long as you explain everything, she'll get it off. You may not hear the end of it, but she'll get it off."

Ron shrugged. "I have to make it seem natural. Impressive, even. I'll seduce her, of course."

Ginny raised her eyebrow. "I thought you and she decided..."

Ron frowned. "You look and sounded incredibly like Harry, just there. Does everybody know my sex life, anyway?"

"It's not just yours, Ronald. Hermione and I talk too, you know."

Ron turned to Harry, ready to pulp him. "She better not have a sex life, or I'll have to turn you over to Charlie."

Ginny stepped between him. "If Harry looks bruised, I'll kill you. If he looks injured, I'll kill Fred and George. If he looks half dead, I swear Charlie will rue the day he was born."

Harry looked at her mildly. "I can defend myself."

Ginny smiled at him. "So can a Hungarian Horntail, and unfortunately, Charlie's had practice."

Harry started to worry.

Ginny turned the smile on Ron. "So what're you planning to do exactly, brother dear?"

Ron turned red and muttered. The word 'picture' was audible.

Ginny paled. "You're joking. You wouldn't do that kind of picture – that's ghastly. What're you trying to do, frighten the poor girl half to death?"

Ron turned dangerously red.

Ginny looked thoughtful, then horrified. "Who're you asking to take....Harry? That's nasty, Ronald. Completely barkers."

Ron turned redder yet. "That's kinda what he said. Are you volunteering then?"

"NO! Go home, Ronald! That's completely disgusting. Out of this flat until you mature."

Ron shouted. "It's not your flat. Who do you think you are?"

Ginny looked furious. Harry on the other hand, turned red and shook his head mutely at both of them, praying that what he thought was about to happen wouldn't happen.

He shut his eyes tightly as Ginny shouted angrily, "Well, you better get used to the idea of me living here."

Glumly Harry noted at this rate, he could have been acing Divination.

Ron's eyes widened as he looked from Ginny to Harry. "I'm gonna kill you, mate."


	6. The Pitching

Disclaimer: Anyone still reading the disclaimers, and really trying to decide whether or not I'm JK Rowling, please contact a mental health professional. The answer should be obvious by now, people.

Ron had gotten into a screaming match with Ginny. Harry hadn't said a thing, and his best friend was sworn to kill him. Of course, that could probably be straightened out, but still. Ginny, on the other hand, looked happily around the room. "I've been wanting to do that to him since I was about three."

She looked over at Harry concernedly. "Are you all right?"

Harry sat quietly with his head in his hands. Ginny gently touched his shoulder. "Sorry for breaking it to him like that."

Harry looked up. He was torn between laughter, and worry. Ron had left threatening to tell his entire family, and would probably do it, considering Ginny had just thrown him out via Floo powder and the fireplace, with little to no warning. Whatever he had been shouting at the time dictated where he ended up now.

"Did you even hear where you sent Ron?"

Ginny shrugged innocently. "He's a big boy. He can find his way home. I think I heard a rant about how him and Hermione are older, and waiting, and how dare you, which should be interesting if he ends up mid sentence at Hermione's house."

Harry laughed. Then he thought about Ron, tumbling into Hermione's house unexpectedly. He laughed harder.

--

Ron felt himself race through the fireplace, and cursed Ginny. Throwing him out of Harry's house like she lived there....more curses for Harry flew through his head. He hoped his impromptu travelings ended at Hermione's.

He shot out of the fireplace. He blearily opened his eyes to a shocked set of roughly sixth year girls whom had clearly had a slumber party the night before. He shut them again briefly, and resisted the urge to swear.

The next thing he heard was a very large squeal. "It's RON WEASLEY! He's a FAMOUS person! Here!"

Ron cringed. He did not enjoy squealing under aged fan girls, none of which would ever considered he was dating someone else. Even if he didn't know Hermione, they were so...immature. And midget-y.

The adult in charge managed to hand him some Floo powder after the third marriage proposal. Now why, thought Ron, couldn't it be that easy? Just go up to Hermione and say "O. M. G. It's Hermione Granger! I'm going to die! Marry me?"

Immediately the answer came to mind. Hermione's scornful face came into view, mocking the last person who said something similar. Ron went cold.

"How dare you? I have a boyfriend, nitwit. THAT pathetic excuse for a proposal certainly couldn't be better than HIS."

Ron's mind immediately paraded Harry and Viktor across it, holding Hermione's arm. The part of his mind fighting to say that she had meant him was drowned out by the part of his mind that hissed, no, Harry wasn't interested in Hermione, Harry was interested in....

Ron muttered something to the witch who gave him the powder, climbed into the fireplace, and shouted "Hermione's!...no wait, Ronald Weasley's! No, not that way...."

Ron was not having a great day. Ron was not having a good day. Ron thought rather dismally, this day is not even an, I'll get through it quietly day. This was definitely a, I'm being dragged through many trials day.

Why oh why couldn't he be back fighting Voldemort? Nice, simple - the green spell goes toward the other guy. So does the red spell. Actually, so do all spells. As Ron's body was pulled away forcefully, he reminisced about the simplicity of it all.

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*I am going somewhere with all this. Keep with me, I'll try to update quickly after this one, thank you if you're still paying attention to this.*


	7. The Playing

Disclaimer: My initials are not JKR. Never have been, never will be.

*Sorry about the update shortly mistake there. I did try. I really did. Next time I'll try writing the story whole, then just taking the time to post it here every once and a while.*

Ron crashed violently into the chair Hermione liked to sit in when she was beside the fire. She usually took breakfast there and read the newspaper for any information she could get her hands on, a habit dating back to the beginning of the war when she couldn't get accurate information.

Actually, mulled Ron as he felt the table and all the books she had on them land on him, she was usually there at this time of day. He was pretty lucky he hadn't hit her.

Absently Ron caught a book before it landed page open, which would bend the pages and were nearly impossible to remove the incriminating crease. Sometimes, it was just easier to learn to prevent the damage before it started.

Hermione, meanwhile, was standing about two steps away from her favourite chair, absolutely stock still and rather shocked. Ron had just crashed into her living room. Not only that, but he was not smelling the few pieces of bacon and the eggs she had fried up (a little extra just in case), but he was quickly and efficiently grabbing the books he had knocked over.

She began musing the possibilities she was in an alternate universe. She hoped Voldemort would remain dead in this one, and that this Ron would have fewer old fashioned morals to worry about.

Ron looked up once book duty was over. The time he'd spent abstractly pondering how to seduce her suddenly became very very real. His face went tomato red. It was one thing to think about it, another to actually attempt it.

"Sorry, wrong fireplace, Ginny threw me out, didn't mean to intrude, leaving n--" Ron stopped. His eyes narrowed, and he inhaled deeply. His eyes grew hopeful. "Is there bacon somewhere in the house?"

Hermione smiled. Still her Ron. "In the kitchen, leave at least two pieces for me."

Ron grinned. He could forget about the pressing problem for an hour or two. Just long enough to eat, he assured himself. A man had to eat, right?

Ron looked over to see Dobby the owl bobbing up and down happily at the Burrow's window. The owl was incredibly cheerful. Frankly, he thought between Dobby the owl and Colin the small black cat that inhabited Harry's domain, his best friend needed to stop naming pets after war victims.

George looked up and grimaced. The owl reminded him of Fred. Everything Harry named after a dead person did, because he wanted to name his child after his brother. He was almost scared Harry was going to beat him to it.

Ginny flooed in. She looked at Ron. Emotions warred on her face. She wanted to comment, but she also wanted to keep the knowledge Ron had a secret. It seemed she valued Harry's life more. She kept her mouth firmly shut, but went over to the window. "Come on, Dobby. Come inside now."

"It's psychotic, the way he names everything after dead people." George looked almost angry.

Ginny just looked at him. "He won't name anything Fred. He won't be naming anything for a while, actually."

Ron looked at her suspiciously. "How long?"

Ginny rolled her eyes with her back to him and shot out "Nine months."

There was dead silence.

More dead silence.

Ginny turned around to see George and Ron staring at her, both white as a sheet.

"You idiots. You actually believed me, didn't you? Harry is a gentleman." The last bit came out primly, but it didn't entirely disguise the odd mix of emotions in her tone. Ron couldn't quite discipher them, but he knew an "I know something you don't know" tone when he heard it.

Ginny apparently had had enough of brothers. Scowling, she chucked the letter Dobby had been carrying at Ron, and marched upstairs, coddling Dobby.

Ron looked at George. "Did she just....?"

George looked at Ron. Slowly he nodded. "She played us."

Ron winced. He opened the letter. It explained that Harry had wanted to be the one to tell him, and his intention was to do that much more gently. It asked if Ron would come over so Harry could apologize for the morning's fiasco.

Harry had gotten much better at playing people since he started dating Ginny again, thought Ron sourly. He went anyway.

"I don't have the slightest idea of what to do about this." Ron announced.

Harry looked up. He didn't particularly want to pick Ginny over Ron, or vice versa. "I didn't mean it to come out that way, I meant to maybe ease you into the idea -"

Ron waved his hand magnanomously. His face had grown a little more dangerous, but he didn't seem to be in a grouchy mood.

"I mean my thing. With Hermione."

He'd been talking to Hermoine this morning, for an extended period of time. He'd put a lot of interest in her thoughts, and traced back to the first time he gotten a large reaction out of her.

He'd spent three hours talking with her about house elf rights. Animatedly.

Three hours!

She'd been very happy, and if he hadn't been so completely bored out of his mind, it wouldn't have been a bad experience. He could have even handled a fifteen minute talk, maybe.

Three hours!

As Ron dwelled on it, Harry watched him. His hands indicated wringing a very small neck as he sat down in a nearby chair. Harry gathered he was thinking about the "house elf conversation" that he'd heard about earlier.

Harry was afraid that Ron would move onto strangling poor Colin instead of thin air. Colin was curious about the smell on Ron, since it shared something with the smell of Ginny. Colin, if truth be told, was much more Ginny's pet than Harry's. Harry had only really gotten a cat because Ginny forced him to have something alive after the war ended, and an owl was too painful.

Not even after Neville's heroics did anyone want a toad, however.

Harry noticed Colin rub himself on Ron's flexing hands, and moved to save the cat. "Maybe Hermione's just waiting for a signal. You know, some partnerships wait for the other one to display interest, or something...." Harry trailed off as Ron was rather red and nastily glaring at him.

Harry belatedly realized what he'd said had to be Ron's exact scheme, just Ron was doing a miserable job of it. Harry realized yet again that he was going to be yelled at.

"And you've got so much experience, huh?"

Ron thought about what he had said and paled. The neck of whatever imaginary thing he was strangling suddenly got bigger, and his hands jerked in the direction of Harry's neck.

Harry swallowed. He liked Colin, but not nearly that much. He backed away, assessing the situation quickly. There were three possible outcomes.

Harry did nothing, and Ron assumed he did have experience. Harry died.

Harry said he hadn't slept with Ginny, and Ron assumed he'd been cheating. Harry would die considerably slower and more painfully.

Harry attempted to deny being anything but a virgin. He could see whether or not Ron believed him.

Harry liked being alive, particularly now that Voldemort was dead and he had a more normal life (for being himself, anyway). In any case, he had no wish to die.

Harry made a pathetic attempt at denying everything. He protested he didn't have any sort of experience and...

Well, actually, he just basically repeated that. There really wasn't anything to prove. "I know nothing about that interesting freckle your sister has" really rather defeated the purpose, so Harry kept his mouth shut on that fleeting thought. He was, after all, the boy who lived.

He did, however, back up much faster.

Ron turned purple and his eyes bulged a bit. Harry bolted from his own house.

Ron breathed a little easier. It helped his overprotective brother side to remember that Harry was both honourable, and scared witless of him.

Particularly the second bit.

Ron was still busy being horrified, disturbed and angry half an hour later. Ruefully, he thought Hermione would have enjoyed seeing the day he outgrew the emotional range of a teaspoon, thinking to many years ago.

He settled back, deep in thought. Harry might have been right, except that Hermione hadn't noticed the fact that Ron was trying to get her attention. She'd made a few verbal responses, leaving them vague.

"Oh yes, Ron, it is getting too warm. Let's open up a window."

"Of course I'm hungry Ron, it's nearly supper time."

Somehow the tone and eyebrow raises had been completely missed. There might have been a small choking sound after he muttered he'd wanted something to nibble on, but Ron suspected she'd just opened an old book full of must.

The reverie of Ron's thinking process was broken by a bright green light of Ginny flooing in.

"Hi Ron, where's Harry?" Ginny chirped, bending down to play with Colin. Colin had immediately flung himself near the fire, almost before Ginny had stepped out. Ron, who had known Harry to moderately dislike cats after Mrs. Figg's house, grew a little suspicious of who exactly had wanted that cat. He didn't say anything though. The knowledge Harry would aquiesce to Ginny's every wish was hardly something new.

He did, however, realize Ginny was not scared enough of him to suppress information. "Going to go send signals to Harry?" He deliberately made his tone argumentative. He was good at dealing with his little sister.

Ginny's face immediately glowed red, a tell tale sign someone had teased her accurately. She hadn't gotten rid of it since second year. It didn't help that he had called her on something that was pretty high on her list of things to do.

"None of your business. Now sod off!"

Ron's face grew bleak. Now it was confirmed. "My sister....he...that....ooooh.....I'm gonna......"

Ginny rolled her eyes. "You know he considers Hermione a sister."

Ron was nonplussed by this new form of attack. "So?"

"SO, I suppose it didn't occur to you he's probably as grossed out by the thought of you two, you know, as you are of him and me." Ginny looked at him, eyebrows raised.

Ron blinked. He'd only really considered Harry and Hermione's relationship in terms of platonic, non-platonic. He hadn't thought about Harry as Hermione's anything; Harry was just his best mate who didn't fancy Hermione.

Ginny smiled tightly as she saw her point had sunk in. She flooed back to the Burrow disappointedly.

Ron sat. His mind wasn't dwelling on the awkwardness for Harry, however, it was following a different, Ron train of thought.

Ron knew Ginny inside and out. Ginny was his sister. Harry thought of Hermione as his sister, therefore it followed that when Harry told him to send signals to Hermione, it could work. He started thinking of signals. A brightly glowing idea came to his mind....

In her own apartment, Hermione wondered what on Earth Ron had been up to this morning. By Merlin's underpants, he had been the one who said he wanted to wait, not her.

For a second she thought he could have changed his mind. This thought was not without possibilities. They were both adults.....

She shook her head briskly. This was Ron after all – his pigheaded determination once he'd made up his mind was legend. When he thought of an idea, no matter how idiotic, he usually carried it out. She sighed. Pity.


	8. The Piqueing Business Possibility

Disclaimer: I'm not JKR. I don't own Harry Potter. Honestly, I probably would have edited this more if I were JKR....or maybe, judging by the length of the last few books, not.

*Thank you for the responses, I cut down the time between updates for this one in gratitude.*

-

Ron went over to the Burrow for supper. His mother insisted he drop by for supper multiple times a week, perhaps sensing Ron would soon opt to do all sorts of things with Hermione rather than eat with his mother.

At supper, by some miracle they actually managed to have enough people that the cozy table didn't fit the many offspring of the Weasley clan. It seemed tonight was a popular night for visiting, as the majority of the children had come.

Ron ended up sitting at a second table with George and Charlie. They weren't quite close enough to comfortably participate in the conversation going on at the other end of the table, and the only ones seated particularly close enough to hear were Teddy and Victoire, who weren't listening anyway. The children were busily engrossed in a complicated finger game.

Charlie looked at Ron. "So how'd you get that ring off, in the end? I was a little upset that I can barely remember anything from that night."

George grinned. "This should be interesting."

Ron turned a plum colour and growled, "Ihaven'tgottenitoffyet."

Charlie frowned and leaned closer. "Try again, I swear I heard you say you didn't."

Ron made a face and shook his head, keeping an eye on the end of the table where Hermione was sitting with Ginny, talking to her. Hermione was almost invited over as often by Ginny as by Ron, particularly since Ron was more likely to take her somewhere other than his parents house. This fact almost offended Ron, but Hermione loved having siblings.

Since Hermione was busy, he took the opportunity to elaborate. "I've been trying to make it look cool. You know, like a planned seduction or something."

Charlie shook his head in disbelief. "You want to marry the gal, but you won't just tell her you have a problem with your -" he paused thoughtfully. "Actually, I might see your point."

George nodded. "Particularly as said gal was the one he treated like a walking dictionary for over 5 years. She might not like a relapse, though truth be told she liked him then too, the idiot."

Ron sometimes liked having older brothers. Today was not one of those days. Or this week, even. "I'm handling it. Harry said I should send her signals."

Charlie snickered. "Just get her drunk and then be done with it. I'm sure she'll realize something's in the way of what she wants eventually."

Ron nearly stood up, but did not wish to explain to his mother what exactly he was yelling about. Instead, his voice grew quiet and furious. "I WILL NOT get her drunk. If she chooses to do this, she will be in her right mind, and I will do the absolute best I can to make her enjoy every single minute of it."

His face slowly turned back. "Not to mention, I'm not your little brother anymore, so my absolute best should actually be quite good." Ron almost smirked.

George, for once in his life, sided with his younger brother. Not out loud, but he made mental notes to interfere in his baby brother's plot and soon.

Charlie scowled. "You know that was a joke, moron. I'd never do that. Ignoring that insult, you'll always be my little brother. In every way."

George, for a second, thought about a product that would make a large ruler appear every time testosteron spiked. He also thought about potentially recording it and selling girls something to slip in a guy's drink.

Ron, meanwhile, was busy still muttering to Charlie. The words puny and teeny could be heard often.

Molly Weasley finally looked up and saw her boys talking low and rapidly. Never, in all her years of parenting, had this produced good results. Her eyebrow raised with her voice.

"Everything all right down there, Ron, Charlie?"

"Yes mum." Came back in complete unison, but not quickly enough to stop the sentence that burst from George's mouth, phrased so that the children in the room wouldn't understand.

"Nothing a ruler can't fix, mum."

At this Hermione's eyebrows shot to her hairline. Ron mentally winced, and wished Harry would walk in the door about now. His brothers liked to taunt Harry even more since the 'Charlie incident'.

However, no such luck. He endured through supper, and went in search of candles. Yes, the future was bright.


	9. The Pyre

Disclaimer: I haven't been JKR for the past eight chapters, people, I'm not about to start now.

-

Ron observed Ginny talking with Hermione, with no intention of letting her out of the conversation. He smiled quietly.

Harry noticed and began to worry. Ron had that look about him, as if he was so enthusiastic, he wasn't putting thought into what he was doing.

Harry saw a disaster equivalent to the fury of Snape the day Fred Weasley had left a shampoo bottle on his desk with specific instructions on the use thereof.

Ron slipped quietly off, bearing with him a rather large tub full to the brim with candles. He made sure all the scented ones were kind of sugary, so none of them would clash. He was really trying.

Of course, being Ron Weasley, it never crossed his mind that really trying could possibly backfire on him. It definitely didn't cross his mind to warn Hermione.

He began to set up his master plan, feeling very ingenious.

-

Hermione looked up at the clock in horror. "Ginny, it's so late! I should have been home ages ago. I better go now. Do you know where Ron is? I want to say goodbye to him."

Harry, who had been waiting patiently for the conversation to end so he could say goodnight to Ginny, waved a hand. "I think he slipped off a while ago. I don't think he's been sleeping well lately."

Ginny turned her head to hide the large grin covering her face.

Hermione frowned. "I wanted...I dunno. He's been acting very strange lately."

Ginny choked. Harry just raised an eyebrow. "Certain events have him bound very tightly, I'm sure."

Ginny nearly bit her tongue to keep from looking suspicious, raising her face innocently to Hermione's skeptical one. "I'm sure he's just been rather pinched lately."

Hermione shook her head. "Everyone's acting terribly odd. I think I'll go home and see if sleeping on it will resolve the problem."

At this, Harry and Ginny's mouths twitched. They kindly waited until Hermione had gone before they started laughing.

-

Hermione flooed into her house a little disoriented, and staggered out of the fireplace without paying attention to where she was going. She bumped into several things before her eyes cleared from the fireplace and she viewed the sixty seven burning candles standing neatly in a long row.

She was startled. There was a candlelit path to her bedroom. Her entire apartment shone with it, she noticed bemusedly. It was rather pretty.

Then she noticed the sixty eighth and ninth candles, which were knocked over by her arrival. Thankfully, not onto anything other than the already charmed hardwood floor. Before she could react, the smoke detector went off.

Instantly, her charm for fires went off like a smoke detector, though it didn't call the muggle firemen. It triggered something else entirely.

Her mouth formed a tiny 'o' as she was abruptly soaked by sprinklers and the lights went off.

A familiar panicky voice called her name, and she realized her books were everywhere.

"My...No....Can't....NO......" Hermione stuttered. Her books. Wet. This could not be happening.

"Lumos!" Ron's voice muttered. He walked, dripping wet out of the bedroom into the living room. Hermione didn't even notice, as she was staring at her books in horror.

Gently, Ron picked one up and put it in her hands. She turned it over, puzzled to see that it was dry.

"I did have enough sense to realize you'd hate me if I messed up your books." Ron didn't say that he was afraid he'd somehow torch them all, and that he hadn't even thought about the floor. "I charmed them all to make sure they were impervious to whatever might happen."

Hermione opened the book and watched the water run off the book with no sign whatsoever of water damage. She breathed a sigh of relief, and hit Ron with the book. She hit him and hard as she possibly could, and her eyes narrowed substantially.

"Merlin's underpants, Ronald Bilius Weasley!"

Ron's eyes opened wide. "What? I protected them!"

"You just about gave me a heart attack, you bloody wanker! What in Merlin's name did you think you were doing?!" Hermione exploded. She was using extremely dirty language for her, but at this point, she didn't care. She was wet and had been devastated, but now she was angry. "I suppose you think it's a right laugh at the bookworm."

Ron shook his head, horrified. "I was just..." He trailed off as he considered how best to tell her.

Hermione scowled furiously. "Out! Now!"

She drew her wand quickly, and Ron stepped back, looking slightly scared. She gave him her best scathing look at directed it at the sprinkler system, shutting the water off before turning her back to him and proceeding to check every single one of her books, pointedly ignoring him.

Ron's face turned red and he proceeded to shout "I have a ring stuck, if you really care! I was trying to come up with a nice way to ask you to get it off, but then you knocked over those candles and set off that stupid caterwauling charm! I've been trying to ask you all bloody week, but you haven't listened."

Hermione didn't even bother listening to the first part, as she was reassuring herself that her books weren't damaged. She also wasn't particularly sympathetic, because she could see for herself Ron wasn't harmed. She did, however, manage to tune in to the part about her "bloody" spell work.

"It works just fine when someone isn't setting fires all over, you prat. Get OUT!"

Hermione was in distinct huffy mode, and Ron's brain was catching on to what exactly he had just shouted. He flooed back to his apartment, and kicked the nearest chair. Hard. His swearing significantly increased when he realized he had only succeeded in damaging his toe.

-

Harry meanwhile, slept peacefully, unaware of the impending explosion that was going to increase the noise level of his house drastically, as both Ron and Hermione were planning on visiting Harry immediately tomorrow morning to tell him what had happened.


	10. The Prevention

Disclaimer: I'm not JKR. I own nothing. I get no payment.

Harry's eyes opened slowly. It seemed like a peaceful morning. There was a nice ceiling Harry was staring at. He could hear his charmed coffee pot start whistling, and the shower was running, no footsteps could be heard anywhere...

Wait...

The shower was running?

Harry got out of bed, his feet protesting the cold floor. He was reasonably certain that no former Death Eater would break into his not so unsafe apartment only to use his shower. He could, however, think of one person who might, if her six brothers were using their single shower, walk in past the protections that didn't concern her anyway and use his shower. He smiled, glad she was that comfortable.

Harry wandered towards the bathroom, ascertained that indeed, the shower was running, and politely knocked. "Hello?"

A cheerful voice issued from inside. "Hi Harry, so sorry to barge in on you, but my brothers are hogging the bathroom. I figured you wouldn't mind me coming here."

Harry relaxed. He was thankful it was only Ginny. "Hey Ginny. Good morning to you too."

A familiar voice bellowed from downstairs. "Harry! You'll never guess what happened?"

Harry internally winced and muttered, "The boy who lived finally died?"

Ginny called out again. "Well, I thought you wouldn't object to waking up to me dripping wet and naked in your apartment."

Ron, unfortunately, had chosen that moment to walk upstairs where he could clearly hear everything. His face twisted angrily, and he looked about to hex something... or somebody.

Harry's forehead landed on the door, in what he thought was a suitable substitute for palm to forehead. Ginny evidently took that as a knock from Harry and opened the door eagerly.

Harry went brilliant red. He felt as if his eyes were jumping out of his head. Ron looked sickened. Ginny looked horrified as soon as she noticed Ron. The bathroom door promptly slammed shut. An odd, embarrassed silence on all parts descended as Ron's hands proceeded with their weird tightening motion again.

Harry heard a fourth voice enter the mix. "Harry, I really need your advice, I have no IDEA what Ronald is thinking."

Harry cringed. "I'm going back to bed now."

Ron scowled. "You bloody will not. We'll sort out what exactly my sister is doing naked in your apartment later, as she seems to have not slept over, which is all that is saving your sorry skin. That, and you're about to help me sort out exactly what to do with Hermione now."

Ron made a jerking motion with his chin, indicating that Harry should follow his lead. Harry, aware of just how much he owed Ron for taking that as maturely as he did, obediently did so.

The two boys walked downstairs. Hermione had already helped herself to a cup of coffee.

Ron raised his eyebrows at her intrusion. "You too? Does everybody convene to steal the comforts of Harry's apartment in the morning?"

Hermione frowned. "If you must know, the kettle wouldn't stop chiming at me until I poured a cup. What's your excuse for intruding?"

Harry shook his head from his position behind Ron, pointing in the direction of the bathroom. It was then Hermione realized the shower was running.

She looked around, and her eyes got very wide as she caught on to whom it must be. "Oh."

Ron gritted his teeth, but said nothing. Harry thought he was showing admirable self restraint, but then realized Ron didn't want him telling Hermione anything sensitive.

"So..." Hermione said awkwardly. She looked up at Ron suspiciously. "Exactly what are you up to? I was going to ask Harry, but I'm sure you'll be willing to tell me.

Ron hesitated. He honestly considered telling her the truth, again. But she hadn't cared last time. He decided to stay committed to his plan of action, and hope for the best.

"Can't a guy try and surprise you, 'Mione?" Ron put on his best innocent face. Harry started composing a knowing face that would make it convincingly look as if this wasn't the first time he had heard whatever story was about to come out of Ron's mouth.

Hermione's eyes narrowed. "Did it ever occur to you I might like a surprise that didn't result in my apartment getting burned down?"

"You're missing the point!"

"There IS no bloody point, Ronald. Honestly, you drive me insane sometimes."

Ron glowered. "There is TOO a point. It was a nice thought."

"What, burning my apartment?"

"I was not trying to burn your apartment. You did that bit all by yourself."

Harry had been trying to figure out exactly what was happening in the conversation. He had not been paying attention to what Ron had done the night before. Moreover, his brain was pleasantly derailed at the thought of Ginny, who was still up in the bathroom. He regretfully wished his friends were in their own homes, asleep at that particular moment as he concluded that Ginny would have to wait at least until Ron and Hermione were out of the house. His voice got significantly louder and more irritated, as he thought both of them were being rather childish. "What. Exactly. Happened?"


	11. The Penultimate

Harry eyed his best friends grouchily. They both managed to look half ashamed of themselves.

"He-"

"She-"

The pair started talking at the same time. It was a mess no one wanted to deal with.

"FINE!" Harry shouted. "Out! Both of you! It's been great, really, but Hermione, go home, read a book, work out a new law about house elf rights or something. Ron, I will see you at the Quidditch game at the Weasley's this afternoon. Leave."

Thankfully, both Ron and Hermione were grown up enough to leave his apartment intact. They did so rather huffily. Harry sighed and went upstairs to take a shower himself. He groaned, remembering the last person that was in the shower and quickly switched the water on cold. Bloody hell, he was playing against her brothers today...

All the Weasley's, Harry, and a good chunk of the old Gryffindor quidditch team lined up along the broad field out behind the improbably structured house. In the distance, they could see the rebuilt Lovegood house, just as many odd plants as ever.

Charlie and Bill, being the oldest, stepped up to grab players. Bill was up first.

"Harry."

"Obviously, as you haven't got a Seeker otherwise." Charlie growled, looking around. "Oliver."

It went on and on, Bill eventually reluctantly choosing Ron, as Charlie had already put in a claim on the preferred keeper. He got him back by picking Katie, well known for her ability to score on Wood.

Things kicked off quickly, Ron turning purple as he straddled his broom. Harry quickly swallowed a laugh, catching George's eye. The ginger grinned back mercilessly as he deliberately positioned the bludgers to make his youngest brother swerve.

Ron grit his teeth. Charlie caught on.

Suddenly, the opposite team had a new strategy. Ron was forced to fly wide zigzags in order to effectively protect the hoops. His sister took particular delight in making him lurch from one goal to the next before slamming him hard with the ball, laughing as he rocked on his broom.

Harry winced in sympathy. Some places just shouldn't be attacked. Ginny, being a girl, was taking far too much glee in what she was doing. Thankfully, Bill called a time out.

"Gin, you mind? He's a sensitive bloke."

Ginny scowled. "My brother hasn't got the sensitivity of a tree stump."

Harry watched Ron limp his way over towards them. Ginny's team was on the other side of the field. "I think he's feeling quite sensitive right now."

Bill crossed his arms, apparently forgetting his sister was not on their team. "Man up, Ron! Merlin's balls, you're playing like Auntie Muriel today."

Ginny laughed. Harry kept a straight face, chalking another one up to friendship. Ron turned an ugly shade of red.

"I'll have you know I'm doing the best I can! They keep bloody well taking advantage of ...things."

"He's in a tight spot," Harry said, trying to sound like he was on Ron's side. He cringed a bit once he'd realized what he'd said.

Katie piped up. "What's the matter, Ron? I can try to block them out -"

Ron shook his head as quickly as he could, but Ginny elected to explain. Loudly.

Katie blushed and backed up and Ron charged in.

"You don't need to tell everyone, Ginny, or I'll make it very clear where I found you this morning!"

Ginny and Ron dissolved into incoherent fighting. Harry glanced dryly over at Bill, making sure the rest of the team could hear him as well.

"Lovely weather we're having, isn't it?"

Katie laughed. "Bloody hell, Potter, you almost sound like a grown up instead of a bespectacled midget."

"It's been known to happen." Harry glanced across the field where Charlie was awaiting his Chaser somewhat impatiently. He'd been keeping an eye on Charlie's whereabouts all game, unsure how much the hulking Weasley remembered about the night they went drinking.

Finally Ginny managed to get the last word in. "I bet Krum didn't wait for anything before telling Hermione. He'd probably act like a man right now. I bet anyone but you would have straight up told her!"

Ron threw his hands in the air, blank with the rage he was feeling at Ginny right now. "You – You-"

He disapparated.


	12. The Proposal

Disclaimer: Not mine.

Ron entered Hermione's apartment quickly, aware that his entire announcement hinged on him maintaining this utter frustration and discomfort. He'd been in pain the entire Quidditch match and his sister hadn't helped one bit.

The ring was too tight and it'd been a number of days, and well...

Just seeing Hermione was enough to stir instincts that nearly keeled him over in pain. He walked as quickly as he could over to Hermione (faster than the average Pigmy Puff, but just), ignoring her startled expression at seeing him appear, and grasped her hand very gently, dropping painfully down onto his knees.

Hermione's eyes filled with understanding, a brilliant smile lighting up her face. Ron promptly lost his nerve and blurted at the top of his lungs,

"WILL YOU MARRY ME?"

To her credit, Hermione didn't even blink. She was actually surprised her apartment had survived his proposal...mostly. "Yes, Ronald, I will marry you. Yes!"

Ron gaped, jumping to his feet and completely forgetting about any pain that may have occurred. "You will?"

"I will!" Hermione parroted back, for once losing herself to the enthusiasm of Ron proposing. He swept her up in a very tight hug and she smiled against his shoulder comfortably.

"Oh!" Having Hermione's body pressed up against him reminded him of a number of things in very short order. "I did buy a ring for you, you know."

One of Hermione's eyebrows arched at Ron's tone. "Okay."

"Don't you want to know where the ring is?" Ron sounded almost amused. He knew Hermione wouldn't judge him...much.

"Where is the ring, Ronald?"

Wordlessly, Ron undid his belt...

THE END.


	13. The Post Proposal

Disclaimer: Not mine.

Epilogue

Charlie landed a large paw on Harry's shoulder. Harry suddenly straightened up completely.

"So I hear you're dating my sister, Potter."

Harry nodded jerkily, his eyes tracking frantically around the room for an escape. Why oh why couldn't he be back riding that dragon out of Gringott's, or something similarly safe?

"All right, Potter. Let's lay down a couple of ground rules. One, you won't touch her until you're married. Two, you won't touch her after you're married. Three, typical wedding night rules are suspended in favour of not touching my baby sister and four – pay attention, Potter, four is the most important..."

Harry gulped. "Yes, sir?"

Charlie leaned in, a dangerous glimmer in his eye. "If I think you two do anything alone together other than play Gobstones, the Hungarian Horntail will seem like a simple walk in the park."

Harry kept nodding until Charlie left the room.

Hermione held out her hand giddily as Ginny cooed. Both giggled girlishly as they contemplated the ring that had finally found its way onto Hermione's finger.

"I'd ask to touch it, but I know where that's been," Ginny made an exaggerated face. Hermione blushed.

"Nothing I hadn't touched before anyway," she muttered quietly.

Ginny raised her eyebrows, unsure if she had heard her normally prudish sister-in-law-to-be properly. Hermione grinned at Ginny just a little bit and Ginny smiled back. Hermione wasn't Luna or anything, but maybe there was more there than Ginny had thought.

"So you knew all along what was bothering Ron?" Ginny sounded almost impressed. That was one huge prank.

Hermione shifted uncomfortably. She wouldn't have left Ron like that for that long. "George told me Ron had gotten a ring stuck – and where – the day after the fire, before I showed up at Harry's house. Sorry for that, by the way."

Ginny chuckled lightly. "Mrs. Hermione Weasley. Though of course, the wedding will never go through unless you dodge the family curse..."

Hermione froze, eyeing Ginny. "What curse?"


End file.
